


don't mind us, we're just spilling our guts

by SunshineExploder



Series: talk to me please, don't have much to believe in [1]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Adultery, Alexander Hamilton - Freeform, Alexander and John pretty much beat the shit out of each other it's not pretty, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angry Sex, Angst, Cheating, Fighting, He's too good for Alexander, John Laurens - Freeform, John doesn't blame Maria tbh, Lots of Angst, M/M, Maria Reynolds - Freeform, Modern version of the Reynolds Pamphlet, So is she, The Reynolds Pamphlet, They should form a club, This is basically John's version of Burn only with more violence and sex, This is not a happy fic I'm sorry, Violent Sex, very sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-03
Updated: 2016-07-03
Packaged: 2018-07-19 18:31:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7372864
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SunshineExploder/pseuds/SunshineExploder
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John used to think heartbreak was silent. But it's not. It's the loudest thing he's ever heard.</p><p>(Or, the fic with John's much more violent version of "Burn".)</p>
            </blockquote>





	don't mind us, we're just spilling our guts

**The Reynolds Post**

**not-wasting-my-shot**

_There's been a lot going around lately about me, and I'm here to set the record straight. I'm going to come clean because if things are going around about me, I want them to be true. So here it is: the entire unadulterated truth._ **  
**

 

 

John doesn't know what to think. He can't think, really. His eyes are glued to his computer screen and the long blocks of text he's scrolling through. He goes numb as he reads it all, absorbs it all, absorbs what's really happened. Alexander always did have to say things in more words than necessary. The man has to make paragraphs out of fragments. John has always found it endearing, but now he wishes Alexander would cut the shit. He wishes that Alexander would stop using words as a shield against what he's done.

When he's finally read the whole thing, John quietly closes the laptop. The apartment is more silent than he can stand it. But he doesn't want to say anything. He sits on the bed ( _their_ bed) and stares at the computer and silently prays that he's going to wake up. He even pinches his arm until blood blossoms beneath his fingernails. He still doesn't wake up. It's real. This is real life.

He doesn't know how long he sits in that empty bed before he hears the front door open. Already, he can tell Alexander knows what's coming. Normally when he gets home, Alexander is loud and talking the minute he gets in the door. He'll call out for John and John will come running like a fucking dog to kiss him and ask about his day. John always gets home first, the zoo closes before the law firm. They'll stand in the kitchen and kiss and laugh and talk and then eat whatever John's made or ordered for dinner. That's their normal day after Alexander gets home. But the door has opened and closed and not one goddamn word has come from either of them.

John breaks first. He rises from the bed, tension coiling in his every muscle. His breathing seems to speed up with each step he takes, until he's standing in the kitchen on the verge of hyperventilating. Alexander watches him carefully, waiting for him to speak. Waiting to see his reaction. John can't speak for several long minutes. He holds onto the edge of the kitchen island that separates them, and his knuckles turn white from how hard he's gripping it. He has to hold on that tight. He feels like he's going to shatter if he doesn't hold onto something.

Finally, he speaks. "Alexander..." He curses the way his voice breaks on the name. His voice is raspy and strangled and he's already blinking back tears. Fuck, this isn't how he wanted this ago. He wanted to keep his composure for longer. But then Alex is talking and he can't handle it.

"John, I'm so sorry. I'm so fucking sorry, you don't even know how sorry I am. I never meant for things to turn out this way. Everything I said in that post, it's true, that's the whole truth. Maria and I are over and there's nothing there anymore. She was just a fling, I love you, I love you so much. I love you more than anything in this world. I'm an asshole, I know I am. I'm fucking scum and I'm so sorry and goddammit, John, say something!"

John's rocking against the counter, the movement a small comfort against the hurricane Alexander has created. He gasps for breath because he can't fucking breathe, he can't speak until he can breathe. And then he gives up, tears brimming in his eyes and trickling over his freckled cheeks. Letting go makes it easier to breathe and he finally says, "Why?"

Alexander is desperate when he speaks. "I don't know, it was a mistake. It was a stupid mistake and I couldn't make myself say no. I don't know what I was even thinking. I love you so much and I don't know why I couldn't say no to her. But I did and she's gone and everything can be okay. We can fix this."

That's what does it. That's what breaks the dam in John.  _We can fix this._ And then John starts yelling, and he takes a dark comfort in how Alexander flinches. "We can fix this? We can fucking  _fix_ this? Alexander, we can't fix a damn thing. You and your goddamn need for everyone to love you, you and your goddamn pride have broken everything! You don't know why you couldn't say no? You couldn't say no because for some reason, you can't seem to stop! You don't know when enough is enough!" He gestures wildly with one shaking hand. "This! Why isn't this enough for you? We were happy, we've been so happy, Alexander."

Alex's brown eyes are wide and there's a fear in them that hurts some soft part in John. "It is enough, John, please, you're enough. I love you. I'm sorry I need to impress people and make them like me, I'm sorry I'm like this. I'm sorry, you have to understand how sorry I am."

A sob rips out of John's throat, and it twists the air between them into something that stings. "It's not enough for you to fuck me over, but you fucked her over to. Do you get that? Has that gotten through your stupid, thick skull? You posted that and her name is in it, Alexander, her full name. People are going to know who she is. You tried to clear your name, and instead you just ruined our lives and you ruined her life!"

"Why are you mad about her? Why do you care about her?" Alexander throws the words out like an accusation, like he has a right to be mad about John caring in the slightest about Maria. It makes John choke out a painful laugh.

"You cheated on me, not her. You brought her into this apartment, you wrote her all those messages, you  _fucked her in our bed_. Our bed, Alexander, the one we picked out together, the one we've slept in together for years!" John laughs again, and it sounds absolutely cracked. "Where'd she sleep when you were done, Alexander? Huh? I know you wouldn't give up your side of the bed. I bet she slept where I do, right? I bet you fucked her in the same spot you do me, right?" When Alex doesn't answer, John screams, "Fucking answer me, Alexander!"

"Yes, fuck, yes, John! Is that what you want to hear? Yes, she slept in your spot. Yes, I fucked her in the same place," Alexander spits out. He's angry now, too, and it makes John grin darkly through the tears. Although, it's less of a grin and more of baring his teeth.

John pushes away from the counter and turns away. He leans against the wall, focuses his eyes on the sky blue paint. He tries not to remember the night they painted this kitchen, how they both got covered in paint. The ghosts of their laughter from that night echo in his ears. If he thinks for a moment, he can feel the sticky paint on his skin and the wetness on his lips from all the sweet kisses they'd shared that night. His heart tightens in his chest and he slams his fist against the wall.

When he hears Alexander start to come closer, he shrieks, "Stay the fuck away!" John whirls around, all matted curls and red face and tear-stained freckles. "You stay the fuck away from me, Alexander Hamilton."

"John, baby,  _querida_ \--"

"Don't call me that!" John screeches. His voice already hurts from all the yelling, but he's not going to stop now. "Don't call me that. You don't have the right to. You called her that, I read the messages. I read every single thing. Goddammit, Alexander, you posted everything you two wrote to each other. You called her all the same things you called me. Shit, you paid her fiance not to fucking tell me! You paid to have an affair with her! Who _does_ that?"

Alexander is quick to jump on that. "Would you have rather found out from him, John? Would you have rather had some random guy call you and tell you I was fucking his fiance?"

"I would've rather you told me! But you didn't, Alexander. You didn't tell me. You told the world. You told all our friends, every single fucking person who reads your blog. It's the Internet. Anyone can see that post with no effort at all. Because you're Alexander motherfucking Hamilton and you can't just come to me and tell me you've been fucking some other girl for almost two years. No, you have to make a giant production out of it and tell the whole goddamn world because you can't stand not having people pay attention to you. Even when you've done something this horrible, you can't fucking fathom people not paying attention to everything you do!" 

John turns to hit the wall again, punching it until he sees blood streak the paint. Alexander finally comes forward and grabs his wrist. He wrestles John's hand back down to his side. When John lifts his free hand and lands a blow right on Alexander's cheek, Alex doesn't flinch. He lets it happen again and again. He doesn't fight back, not even when John yanks his other hand free and starts hitting him with both hands. It takes a minute before John registers that he's screaming obscenities and  _fight back, you fucking coward, fight back, hit me back._

Then he does. Alexander finally snaps and yells back and slaps John across the face. It's what John's been waiting for. He tackles Alexander to the floor and there he is, there's his Alex who fights like a deranged animal, scrappy and starving and raving mad. John returns the passion. If Alex wants to fight like an animal, John will match him. They're possessed as they roll on the dirty linoleum and screech and rip at each other.

John doesn't know when they stop hitting each other and start kissing. But the kissing feels like fighting, too, like they're still trying to hurt each other with lips and teeth and tongue. His lips feel bruised where they connect to Alexander. John's going to die, he's on fire everywhere Alexander touches him hungrily. Nails rake against his back and his abs. His own hands grab at Alex's softer body. He's less toned than John, but nowhere near less strong.

Alexander drags him up and shoves him against the wall. John shoves back at him. They throw each other back and forth until Alexander is throwing him onto the bed and climbing over him. They tear at each other's clothes and then it's skin on skin. Alexander is biting dark marks down his neck, down his chest. His teeth latch hard onto John's nipple and John tugs sharply on his ponytail. It's not enough, so John takes it down and threads his fingers through the inky locks and he yanks. Alexander growls and starts biting down again. 

He doesn't suck John. Instead, he shoves his fingers into John's mouth while he sucks hickeys onto John's hips and thighs. They stand out like black holes against the galaxies and constellations that his freckles create. While Alex bites him, his tongue twirls around the fingers in his mouth. He sucks on them and gets them as wet as possible. It's all the lubrication he's getting, and all he wants. He doesn't want this to feel nice and smooth. He wants it to hurt, wants them both to be in pain.

After a few more hickeys, Alexander removes his fingers from John's mouth with an obscene wet sound. He brings them down to John's entrance, wastes no time in working two into John. It burns, but the moan that rips out of John is enough for the third to go in. They pump in and out of John, twisting and grinding until they find the spot that makes John yell. Then they're pressing directly into that spot and John is seeing stars and shouting for Alex to just fuck him already.

So Alex does. He pulls his fingers off and spits on his cock, jerks it with his wet fingers. It's not long before he's sliding inside John. Once he's bottomed out, he just stays there for a moment. But John pushes at him, tells him to go. This isn't how they usually do it. Normally, Alex lets John adjust and makes sure he's comfortable, but John doesn't want to be comfortable. He wants to bleed.

Alexander obliges and starts a punishing pace. It hurts, oh god, does it hurt. They're both huffing and moaning and yelling. Alexander because it's tight and drier than he's used to, John because the friction is scraping away inside him just like he wanted. Alexander keeps hitting the spot inside him that makes him writhe and arch his back. The pleasure from that mixes with the pain beautifully.

It's not long before John is cumming. Ropes of white paint his flushed skin, some of it splashing up against Alexander. He's not even done with his orgasm before Alexander is going as deep as possible and biting harshly at John's throat as he fills him up. Once they're both done, Alexander pulls out with a vulgar sound that makes John want to throw up.

Alexander flops down next to him. They've switched spots in the bed, something that never happens. Alexander is next to the wall and John is close to the edge of the bed and they don't touch again. They just sleep.

John wakes up first. They haven't been sleeping for long, definitely not long enough for his rage to ebb. Instead, it's been festering and growing and now he explodes. Before he gets up, he turns and rummages through their nightstand. Once he finds what he's looking for, he holds it tight in his fist and stalks into the living room, vibrating with fury. He grabs the first thing he sees, a framed picture of them that they took on their first date, and the throws it into the wall. Glass shatters and the picture slips out. Their smiling faces stare up at John, only making him angrier.

That's what Alexander wakes up to, the sound of John shrieking and throwing things. Alexander darts out of bed into the living room and there's John. He's naked and covered in marks and blood and he throws a lamp at the wall just as Alexander comes into the room. There's debris all over the living room. It looks like a hurricane has gone through there.

Then John notices Alexander. John's crying again, but his snarl makes his tears look terrifying. He comes closer to Alexander, not much, though. He opens his palm and holds it out for Alexander to look at, and Alex feels like he's been gutted. There's a ring in John's palm, small and beautiful, with one diamond sparkling in the morning light streaming through the windows. It's the prettiest thing Alexander has ever seen.

John throws it on the ground as hard as he can. The delicate silver band breaks with the force. John breaks with it, slumping to the ground and dropping his head into his hands. Alexander sits down, too, and pulls John against him. At first, John fights him, but soon enough the fire goes out of him and he sinks into Alexander's embrace. It's a few minutes before Alex realizes John is whispering something in a ragged, barely-there voice.

Alex leans closer to hear.

_I wanted to marry you._

Alexander and John both think that they've never heard something as loud as two hearts breaking at once.

**Author's Note:**

> Um.
> 
> Honestly, I don't have an explanation. I have a broken heart, but not an explanation.
> 
> I hope you guys enjoyed this, drop a comment or kudos if you can. Sorry for any errors, it's unedited.
> 
> Title is from Sarcasm by Get Scared: "Don't mind us, we're just spilling our guts. If this is love, I don't wanna be loved."


End file.
